Whispers on the Street
by salvadorean.writer
Summary: Sam and Jules always seem to have a fascinating, confusing, and charged relationship whether they are dating for the first time, attempting to bury their feelings, relishing in their secret relationship, or freely together at last. What do the people on the outside see? *a collection of perspectives*
1. Chapter 1: Cops are Interesting

**Chapter 1**

Cops are interesting.

It's a conclusion Edna has come to after hailing them as perfect people with no lives when she was younger to learning that they are regular people now that she's older, a college graduate literally working towards her master's.

When you're younger you see cops and admire them because they're a staple part of society that you can't seem to approach. They're there and always will be. Always inspiring fear and order.

It's not until you're older that you realize people are not born cops but that it's a profession. And then you see them as real people. With families. And problems. And in dire need of coffee in the morning. Just like everybody else.

Honestly, it's the same thoughts one has of teachers.

Regardless, working at a diner in the middle of the city, it's no wonder that Edna pays more attention to the interactions between cops than anything else.

And if they really do order only donuts and coffees.

Hey, she likes people watching. And with this job, it makes it a lot easier.

 _Ding_

Edna's pulled from her thoughts as two police officers enter the diner. They immediately catch her attention and she can't help subtly staring.

One of the officers is a well built blonde man with striking blue eyes. He's tall and dreamy and she's not above sending him suggestive looks to spark his interest.

The other officer is female, an undeniably gorgeous brunette maybe a foot shorter than the blonde. A hint of familiarity radiates off her and Edna is sure she has seen her somewhere.

"Edna, can you go wait on the officers?" Betty, the diner's manager, glances over at Edna, tipping her head at the two officers.

"Of course Betty." Edna smiles, grabbing the notepad from her apron. Today, they're short a waitress. So it's just her and Betty taking orders.

She comes up to the two officers, both who are browsing the menu. Well, the girl is. The blonde is staring at her with a soft smile, longing and adoration in his eyes.

But when the girl looks up, that look evaporates as if it was never supposed to be there in the first place.

Edna raises an eyebrow at the interaction, realizing some feelings may be afloat. One sided or mutual, she can't tell. Still, she's smart enough to realize the blonde only has eyes for this brunette and it would be fruitless to attempt to flirt with him.

Edna speaks up. "Hello, my name is Edna and I will be your waiter. Can I get you both something to drink?"

The brunette smiles. "Can I have a hot chocolate with extra marshmallows?"

"Of course." Edna grins, noticing the blonde's amused yet loving expression. This man is obviously hopelessly in love with the brunette.

"I'll have the same thing." The blonde officer states after a while.

Edna notes their drink order. "I'll be back with your drinks in a couple minutes and then I'll take your order." With that, Edna walks away, glancing at them over her shoulder.

She steps behind the counter and hands over the order to the cook. As she waits for the hot chocolates, Betty walks over and hands over an order to the cook as well.

"Slow day today. Maybe it'll pick up by lunch time." The older woman remarks, looking around at the few customers littering the small diner.

"Don't worry Betty. This diner may be a hole in the wall, but it serves better food than some five star restaurants." Edna states with sincerity.

"Thank you hon." Betty beams, flashing that motherly smile of hers.

"Two chocolates." Neo, the cook, announces as he places the beverages on the counter adjacent to the kitchen.

Edna grabs the drinks and returns to the officer's table.

"...and it's not like Ed will let it slide, ya know. He's tough on everyone but toughest on himself." The brunette is saying.

The blonde shrugs. "I don't know Jules. I don't see why he should blame himself. It was a risk but we saved the kid."

"Your hot chocolates." Edna interrupts politely, placing the beverages before them. "Are you ready to order?"

"Yeah. I'll have the Avocado Burger with Seasoned Fries."

"I'll have the Spicy Chicken Sandwich with Curly Fries."

"Great choices." Edna smiles as she writes down the order. She glances at the man. "Do you want onions in your burger?"

"Grilled."

"Okay. I'll have these out for you in about ten minutes."

They both thank her.

Edna walks back behind the main counter, giving Neo the order. She then looks around the diner, in search of new customers. But there are none.

As she waits, she can't help but wonder at what's going on between the two police officers. The blond man watches the brunette with such care as she takes drinks of the sweet beverage, laughing when she looks up, a whipped cream mustache on her upper lip.

The brunette attempts a glare, but only ends up laughing along with him. Then, the man lifts his hand, seemingly to reach out and wipe away the offending confection, but simply pauses midair, frowns, and clasps his hands on the table. They both fall silent after that.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Neo asks suddenly, appearing at the kitchen's counter.

Edna grins at him. He smells like French fries. "The cops. The girl looks familiar."

"Really?" Neo stares at the officers. "Oh! They're officers from the strategic response unit. The hot chick saved a girl from committing suicide off the roof of a mall a few months back."

Edna rolls her eyes at his description of the female officer, but then she remembers the news coverage of that day. "You're right! I knew I'd seen her somewhere."

"Anyways, their food is ready." Neo grabs the food from their other cook and hands it to Edna. "Say hi for me."

Edna chuckles at his antics, grabs the food, and walks back to the officer's table.

"...really not a big deal." The blonde man is saying, shrugging his shoulders sheepishly.

"Not a big deal!" The brunette's eyes widen. "Sam you may be cocky as hell but you can be pretty humble too. What you did was amazing. You saved his life."

"Your orders." Edna places down the plates as the conversation pauses.

"Thank you." The brunette smiles warmly. "The hot chocolates were great, the best I've had in a while."

"Thanks. I'm sure the cooks will be flattered to hear that." Edna grins, taking the empty cups. "Would you guys like some drinks with the food? On the house."

"Two waters." The brunette decides, glancing at the blond who nods.

"Coming right up."

Minutes later, Edna returns with two icy waters. She then tells them to enjoy and moves on to another table, where three teenagers have seated themselves.

Some time later, she notices the empty plates in the officer's table. She walks over and takes them away.

They nod in thanks as they continue to talk.

She comes right back with their check. "Thank you for dining here today."

"Thank you." The brunette smiles. "The food's great and you're so kind."

"Thank you, Officer." Edna blushes in modesty.

"Please, call me Jules. We're on our lunch break so I'm technically off duty."

"Speaking of." The blond speaks up, glancing at his watch. "Jules we better go." He reaches into his wallet and produces a generous tip.

Edna smiles. "It must be nice working together. You guys make the cutest couple." She came to the conclusion that maybe they were dating but feared being open about it due to the publicity and the professionalism their job entitles.

However, seeing their flabbergasted expressions, Edna considers that she may have misread the stolen glances and hidden smiles. Either that, or they themselves aren't aware that their looks and actions speak volumes.

"We, uh, we're not together."

"We're teammates...That's all."

"Yup, just teammates."

"Friends too."

They're both stammering, speaking with tinted cheeks. If the situation wasn't so awkward, Edna might have laughed.

Edna opens her mouth to apologize for her words, but the brunette cuts her off as she quickly rises. "Well, we better get going. Again, thank you for everything." With that the brunette makes her way out of the diner.

The blond follows her lead, rising as well, just not as quickly, and instead with a pained expression. But not of physical pain. He forces a smile. "Again, thanks."

"I'm sorry." Edna feels compelled to say. She didn't mean to touch a sore topic.

"It's okay." The blond assures her.

Maybe it's his expression, or the idea that since she already said something, she feels compelled to make it better, Edna works up the courage and stops the blond. "And officer? Don't give up on her. I can tell you love her and I see that she loves you too."

The blond looks surprised, whether at her words or at how true they are, she's not sure. But he simply nods softly and flashes her a smiles before stepping out of the diner.

Edna looks after them, a thought striking her head.

Cops really _are_ interesting.

 **A/N: Another series?! Yes. I know, I know, I have stories left and right but when inspiration strikes, I can't say no. Tell me what you think or what you wanna see.**

 **Oh, mini trivia, at what point of their relationship do you think Sam and Jules are? Can you guess at what's going on between them? During what season?**


	2. Chapter 2: Good Ol' Wisdom, Part 1

**Chapter 2: Older Wisdom, Part 1**

 **A/N: The response to this series was out of this world, Thank You all so much! And in regards to Chapter 1, missblueeyes63, thisisfromawhileago, Hazmatt, and Sewtunes hit the jackpot. That chapter took place after Attention Shoppers but before Eagle Two, so before they became a couple. Great job guys!**

Abigail Grahams easily recalls the day the girl moved in next door as clear as day.

The sun was a ball of flames, blindingly bright and orange, mercilessly beating down on the seemingly deserted neighborhood. The houses unanimously swam in her vision, suffocated by the heat, their inhabitants safely tucked inside. Dry air racked the trees, causing them to shudder and bend over away from the sun. Flowers wilted.

Despite the punishing heat, Abigail Grahams rocked stubbornly on her porch, the rocking chair groaning occasionally under the movement.

Everything was still and quiet, save for Abigail Grahams' rocking chair, until a loud moving truck rumbled to a stop, grumbling under the strain of its weight, in front of the townhouse next-door. Abigail's eyes sought out the perpetrators, keeping a disapproving look on the two young men who exited the truck, both wearing matching gray outfits. Her disapproval intensified when a black automobile, if you can call it that, came to a trembling stop behind the truck. The sole occupant, a girl with brown hair confined to a ponytail, hopped out.

Abigail was not a woman of change. Every morning, she rose with the sun and drank a black coffee and ate a piece of sweet bread at her kitchen table. She then went to sit in her rocking chair on the porch, where she kept vigilance over her neighborhood until she felt her body's demands. At exactly one of the afternoon she returned inside for lunch before promptly reclaiming her place in the rocking chair, vigilant until the sun fainted and darkness reigned.

Therefore, the idea that a wild card was moving in next door didn't sit well with Abigail.

Regardless, she watched with the eyes of an owl as the girl shouldered most of the job of taking her belongings inside, probably forgetting that it wasn't her job but the movers' jobs, to do so. Then, after countless tiring hours, Abigail watched as the girl paid the movers and dismissed them, promptly retreating into her new home.

The sun was beginning to set, wavering in the dim sky, but that didn't stop Abigail from making her way next door, her crutches steadying her faltering steps. Making her way next door was an agonizingly slow process, but Abigail Grahams was no quitter. Eventually, she pounded her gnarly dark hand against the wood, waiting for the door to open. She didn't wait long.

A pretty little thing with warm brown eyes opened the door with a confused furrow to her brows. She didn't have a chance to even open her mouth before Abigail began speaking.

"Now you listen 'ere girl, I've gone and lived here for over fifty years, before your momma and daddy even met. And this neighborhood here has been quiet and calm, where little ones be safe. I expect it to stay just like that. I ain't wanna hear no loud music, no partying, and nothing illegal, you hear? If I do, ima be the first to call the cops. Do I make myself clear girl?"

A moment of silence ensued, Abigail Grahams marking her words with her patented stare that earned her the nickname "the Witch" among the local kids. To her surprise, however, a smile broke out on the girl's face and she stretched out her hand. "Julianna Callaghan, Ma'm."

"I ain't no Ma'm." With those departing words, Abigail turned around and began her journey home. She wasn't a kind and welcoming woman, not after she welcomed life and it spat on her face, and that wasn't going to change anytime soon.

However, she could feel the girl's eyes on her back and it wasn't long before she felt a small hand on her arm. "Here, let me help you."

Pulling away, Abigail countered gruffly. "I ain't need no help girl. I'm old, not invalid."

The girl immediately retracted, respectfully giving the older African-Canadian woman space, but Abigail could feel the girl watching her nonetheless until she made it back to her own townhouse. Abigail Grahams, however, didn't look back once as she retreated into her somberly lonely home.

That all happened eight years ago.

From that day forward, the girl would leave the house very early in the mornings, waving in greetings to the bitter old woman, only to return very late at night looking worn out, yet still managing a smile and a wave for Abigail Grahams. Abigail, however, never returned the gestures, only watching with those skeptical beady eyes as the girl disappeared and reappeared in the distance.

It would be preposterous to assume the old woman hated the girl. Because she didn't. She simply hated the world. It left her a widow and killed her two sons. There was no reason for her to smile. She was a fighter, but her war was over. So she simply sat in that old rocking chair, waiting for the cloaked black figure with the scythe to lead her to her family.

* * *

The concept of time hauled on without a care. Weeks, maybe months, passed before Abigail felt her hand lifting on its own accord and a smile fighting to surface like it once would, decades ago.

Before long, the sun sighed and began to recede, cooling its anger, allowing cold winds to take over. Plants and people alike would shudder, their spirits falling like the leaves.

But not Julianna's. She always smiled. Always waved.

Until the day she didn't.

It was a fittingly cold night. The sun, no longer strong enough, but only a flicker of light, shamefully fell beyond the horizon, letting the moon take over.

Abigail was about to head inside when she noticed a lone figure standing in the yard. It stood there like a ghost, and Abigail feared her eyes where playing tricks on her. The figure began to move towards Abigail's porch and the old woman waited in suspense, her face contorted by curiosity and fearlessness.

"I'm sorry."

The words were whispered, pushed to the ground with a weak shove.

Abigail recognized the girl under the dim porch light, and unfortunately, the tone as well. "Crazy girl, you'll freeze ta death. Come inside and drink a cup of cocoa to warm your bones."

Abigail couldn't explain it at the time, the sudden surge of concern and care for the broken ghost of a girl. Regardless, she urged her inside her empty townhouse, leaving no room for argument and asking no explanation for her earlier words.

Abigail Grahams clattered around, crutches and all, as she created hot chocolates, a family recipe, while the girl stood there, staring blankly at the kitchen. In no time, Abigail had herself and the girl seated on the plush couch that invaded the living room, two steaming mugs of hot chocolate standing at attention side by side on the center piece table.

Yet, the girl seemed to have no knowledge of anything going on around her. The world could open up and swallow her whole and the girl wouldn't budge. Abigail didn't know what scared her most - the actions she was seeing, or the fact that it was this particular girl exhibiting them.

"What did you do?" It wasn't accusatory. Abigail's dwindling dark eyes showed concern and care, emotions that she thought had died the day the military uniforms showed up at her front door.

"I did my job." Four words, heavy with pain. Abigail was surprised she didn't hear regret, but a sort of haunted tinge to them.

Abigail nodded, venturing a hand forward, allowing it to rest on the girl's cold hand. Surprised, the brunette looked up, a kind of relief etched on her pretty face.

Abigail patted her hand. "Go on, drink some cocoa and then talk."

The girl, Julianna, Abigail corrected herself, hesitantly wrapped her slender hands around the bright blue mug, sipping quietly. Thick silence enveloped them like a blanket, and for a while, they could both pretend the sun was shining outside.

"I killed a man today."

The words were hurdled out of the dark, hitting them both like a ton of bricks. Yet Abigail remain composed, even as water began to rain out of the girl's brown eyes.

"You don't strike me as a girl that go 'bout killin' people."

Probably not expecting that response, Julianna sniffled, frowning at her older counterpart. She then set her eyes downcast once more. "I'm a police officer, Ma'm. I had to kill the man before he shot someone else."

Abigail felt a light of understanding break through the dark as puzzle pieces clicked together, explaining the early mornings and the late returns. She drank some hot cocoa, drowning the guilt that rose at having jumped to conclusions in regards to the girl's life. In its place, surged an odd sense of pride, just as a pinprick of fear reminded her of the fate of her own two sons.

Benjamin and Charles were her pride and joy, two healthy and strong gifts of God. They were determined with hearts of gold. They fought for their rights, and the rights of others, ultimately deciding to join the military as an ultimate act of selflessness. In the end, however, they paid for their beliefs with the ultimate price.

Feeling her eyes water and her broken heart constrict, she realized her sons would want her to help this girl. This girl with that same determination and heart of gold.

"I had two boys. Stubborn and headstrong little things. Crazy boys, they were. They daddy and I, we sacrificed everythin' we could to give 'em a good life. I raised 'em God fearing and honest. They were my everything, especially after they daddy died."

Abigail paused, swallowing the lump in her throat. She had never talked to anyone about this, it was something her old heart planned to take to the grave.

"Benjamin, the oldest of da two, had a set of toy soldiers. Always took 'em everywhere. Received a couple whoopings for bringin' 'em inta my kitchen. Wanted to save the world, he'd say. My baby Charles followed suit, always admirin' Benjamin, that boy.

"They were two peas in a pod, my boys. Always lookin' out for each other and takin' care of their old woman. They daddy's death hit 'em hard, real hard. But they made it through, helpin' me even when they were hurtin'.

"But they had purpose, my boys. They wanted ta save the world. They both joined the military and fought for freedom. They received awards and commendations, things I ain't understand. All I cared for was my babies' safety.

"December 20th, 1984 two uniformed men showed up at my door and told me they were heroes. Told me they sacrificed they lives for they friends. Told me my babies were dead and I was all alone."

Tears ran unchecked down the old woman's crumpled face, her hands shaking as she wiped them away. Arms suddenly appeared at her sides, holding the pieces of her broken heart together, if only for a while longer.

They remained that way, the girl who killed a man lending comfort to the widowed woman who lost her boys, for what felt like an eternity. Until the old woman spoke.

"You remind me of 'em. Headstrong and determined to save the world." She paused. "What ya did today, killin' that man that woulda killed more, shows what a selfless girl you are, sacrificing your soul for others. Ya did good, Julianna. Don't let nobody tell you you didn't."

The old woman then pulled away from the sobbing form, holding her shoulders tightly with both hands. "But listen ta me, and listen good. Don't let your soul go dark. Focus on the good ya did. On the people you saved. Every time, ya focus on that. Cause, trust me, it ain't gonna get any easier."

Then, Abigail held Julianna and let her cry. Let the girl feel the weight of the first life she had to take. Let her feel the humane pain that comes with ending someone else's humanity. She held her, that's all, without judgment or reproach.

Years later, Abigail Grahams came to truly understand why she did what she did. Julianna reminded her of herself. She was a young, independent woman carrying her own in the world with a smile on her face and a pep in her step. And Abigail didn't want to see that girl disappear into darkness. Not like she did.

Still, that night, Abigail didn't make that realization. But one thing was certain then as it is now, that day changed something for both of them, shifted something deep in their hearts.

From then on, Julianna would wave and smile and Abigail would wave back, offering a shaky smile herself. Then, on the hard days, Julianna would show up on her porch and Abigail wouldn't ask. She'd just make hot chocolate and let the girl talk when she was ready, dispelling the shadows that were haunting her.

* * *

One particular day, Abigail remembers the sun was shining. Already two years had passed since the day the girl moved in and Julianna was busy in Abigail's garden, doing anything and everything to help the old woman.

It was beautiful, the sounds of the rocking chair, the rustle of plants, and the voices of children playing music with the air.

Suddenly, Abigail Grahams broke the melodic silence, a tone of concern and suspicion spilling from her lips. "Who are those men, girl? You being with someone?" Over the past months, Abigail had seen an array of men visit the girl, and a surge of protectiveness had filled her old heart.

Julianna immediately looked up, leaning back on her heels. She shook her head with a look of amusement, and returned to tending the rainbow of flowers. "The Italian man with the dark hair, his name is Michelangelo but we all call him Spike, and the man with tan skin and cropped hair, his name's Lew Young, are my best friends. Then the bald older man is my Sergeant and mentor, Greg Parker, and the taller bald man is my Team Leader, Ed Lane. The other man with brown hair and kind smile that usually comes with two little girls is Wordy. I usually babysit his girls, they're really sweet and funny." Julianna scrunched up her nose, a gesture Abigail found incredibly adorable, and continued her what had now become a story. "There's this other guy who's on our team, Rollie Cray. I'm not close to him so he never visits unless I'm hosting a team gathering." A smile and a raising of her hands in a dramatic gesture of finality. "And those are my teammates, the people that have my back everyday, and that invade my home on a frequent basis." A laugh. "Specially Spike and Lew. I swear they eat more than an army."

Abigail smiled, glad to hear of her life, and of the people that made up a big part of it. "I'm glad."

Silence ensued and Abigail noticed the energetic fire cracker suddenly became quiet, her eyes suspiciously wet.

"You prick your finger there girl?"

Julianna looked up with a sheepish look as she wiped at her eyes, a wistful smile on her pretty face. "No, it's just I'd forgotten how it'd felt to have a mother."

Those words settled something in Abigail's heart and she felt some broken pieces mend. She felt her own eyes water and she frowned. "Now look what you did here, girl, you got this old woman leaking."

Julianna laughed. It was music to Abigail's sore ears.

* * *

Abigail Grahams was many things. A widow. A mother to two angels in the sky. A witch to the local children. A vigilant eye to the neighborhood. But without knowing it, the day that girl moved in next door, she was given a second chance at happiness and motherhood. And she took it.

As the months traversed, Julianna would visit Abigail more often, spending more of her time off work at Abigail's home. Abigail would grace her with memories of Charles and Benjamin and Julianna would do the same, sharing the short lived memories of a happy family before an intoxicated man in a car took it all away.

They created an unbreakable bond, cherishing second chances. The bitter old woman wasn't so bitter anymore and the lonely girl now had family. Not only in Abigail, but in that group of men Julianna spoke so much about.

It warmed Abigail's heart and every night she prayed for Julianna's safety and for the safety of her teammates. She felt her sons smiling down on her.

* * *

Abigail Grahams, from her spot on that old rocking chair, saw everything. She saw the budding friendship, as the young man with blond hair and blue eyes would walk Julianna to her front door and wave goodbye, although he didn't want to.

Abigail may be old, but she wasn't blind.

She had known it would happen before his first appearance at Julianna's door, actually. She had known from the way Julianna talked in an agitated tone about the "cocky rookie" and his "trigger-happy fingers." She had known from the way Julianna complained about him, sighing deeply in annoyance and assuring Abigail that he didn't belong. Abigail had known because underneath that anger and reproach, she had seen the fear Julianna felt as she realized this man would become someone special to her and she was afraid she would lose him.

Abigail Grahams had known, because they were the same feelings she'd felt when Julianna came into her life.

Julianna never told her, but Abigail knew when the romance began. Julianna stopped talking about the young man, only hinting at friendship between the two. But what gave it away was Julianna's smile and the way her face brightened in a way it never had before, and Abigail knew it was love. She would let Julianna figure it out herself though.

She would watch as the two of them, a simply beautiful young couple, would hide behind close doors, in the dark hours, and under shakes of the head and the refusal to voice.

Abigail wondered why their love was a secret. Wondered why Julianna wouldn't tell her, voice it. Was the girl aware of the love she felt but unable to make it a reality? It was foolishness, Abigail knew. But, again, she'd let Julianna learn that herself.

During those months, Julianna's visits to the old woman became less frequent. But Abigail Grahams understood, cherishing instead the times they would spend together. Cherishing Julianna's bright smile and chocolate eyes and the way her cheeks tinted when she said the name Sam. It was captivating and both of them, the old woman and the girl, found themselves laughing with a joy they had never experienced before.

It was a joy of love. Of motherhood. Of belonging.

It didn't last long, that joy. It came to a screeching halt on a warm sunny day, when Abigail Grahams felt a pain spreading though her heart as she rocked in her old wooden rocking chair all alone.

That night, she stopped rocking and waited. Waited for Julianna to come home, to her home, and tell her that sense of pain was just her old heart struggling to beat. Waited for Julianna to smile and wave, as she always did.

But Julianna never came home that day. Or the next. Or the day after that.

Abigail was hurting, because somehow, she knew Julianna was hurting too.

* * *

It happened on the seventh day. It was like creation rewritten as everything was building up for the grand finale. A finale bursting with pain and fear.

Abigail Grahams didn't own a phone or a television set. She refused to take part in the mundane things that overpowered the world. Her two sons didn't get to experience it, so why should she?

She did have a landline, however, after that sweet girl of hers insisted she must in case of an emergency. Abigail had argued that it wasn't necessary, refusing an emergency would ever come into fruition. Life couldn't be so cruel to her again. Right?

Abigail Grahams was devastatingly wrong.

That seventh day, the birds were quiet, their chirpings muffled. The air didn't sing, choosing to let the sun burn with all its anger. Even the children, shrinking away from the heat, stayed indoors. Prisoners.

It's like they all knew.

Then the landline rang, shattering the uncomfortable and suffocating silence, like a baseball crashing through a neighbor's window, leaving everyone wide eyed and immobile. Abigail stopped rocking, her lips formed a frown, and she waited for another ring. Needed to make sure what she heard was real.

Hearing the ringing return, like a pesky insect, Abigail grabbed at her cane and made her way inside, reaching the landline before its final ring.

"Hello?"

Abigail wasn't sure what she was expecting to hear, but it sure wasn't her name, spoken softly as if in secret.

"Who's this?"

Abigail knew who it was. She knew from the bottom of her heart and the subconscious of her mind. But she couldn't accept it. No. Because this voice should be happy, full of life. A real sunshine, not the blazing ball of fire imposing outside.

 _"It's...me...Juli-"_

Her breathing was labored, presenting itself as a painfully infused evidence of pain. It clawed at Abigail's heart, that pain. "Shush now girl." Abigail let the truth sink in, sinking her heart with it - Julianna was hurt. Her voice broke as tears pricked at her dwindling dark eyes. "You're hurtin'. I can hear it in your voice."

 _"I'm...okay."_

Abigail choked out a scoff. "You could be dyin' and you'd say you okay." A beat. "What happened?"

 _"I... I got...shot... Sniper... I'm...alive... Had to...call to... let you...know... I'm alive."_

A surge of love and fear for her dear girl's life and anger towards the man who dare hurt her daughter washed over Abigail, drowning her in a need to hold Julianna, truly see she was okay and see the smile that now lit up her world.

Instead, she allowed relief to take over as tears streamed like a river down her face and she settled heavily on the chair close by.

"Remember now what I told you girl. You a fighter. Always been. Now you rest and let my boys, Benjamin and Charles God bless 'em, take good care of ya, you hear?" She paused as she shuddered from the overwhelming emotions warring within her. "You come back to me, girl. I need that wave and smile, ya hear? You don't wanna kill this old woman now do you?"

 _"No... Ma'm..."_ A small laugh, remembrance of the day they met. _"I'll be...home...soon... Can't...miss... Hot cocoa."_ There was a pause, as Abigail could hear her loosing strength, but somehow, she held on to it and whispered the last words. _"I...love you... Mom."_

That did it. The line went dead and so did Abigail. A pain she believed would never visit her again, returned for an encore, shoving itself mercilessly into the old woman's worn heart.

Abigail cried. Cried tears of a mother. Tears of anger. Why was life so cruel to her? So unfair?

Life gave her love and stole it. Gave her two sons and took them. And gave her a second chance at motherhood, only to rip it away at the last moment.

It stung and Abigail prayed in earnest with broken words, words heard through sobs, for anyone to listen. Whether it be a celestial being or life itself, she forced them to lean close and hear her pain.

Abigail wouldn't rest until Julianna was home, safe and alive. Until she could see that wave and smile, every day and every night.

* * *

Abigail has learned the hard way that time doesn't heal. No, it only extends the pain longer than it should, dragging its victims through the memories and the what ifs, through a time they can see only in sleep. It's torture of the worst kind.

Time is man's worst enemy. It's longer during suffering and pain, mockingly moving its hands slower by the second. But during times of happiness, of love that's cherished, Time quickens its pace, walking away and leaving you with wisps of air.

People lie when they say time heals.

Either that, or they've never experienced its pain. Abigail has. More than once.

After that phone call with Julianna, Time came knocking at Abigail's door, leisurely moving about her familiar home, immobilizing her clocks. Immobilizing her heart without once being moved by the old woman's tears and pleas.

It was heartbreaking. Literally.

Abigail no longer went to her rocking chair. No longer summoned up the strength to get out of her haunted home. No longer could bear sitting out in the world without seeing Julianna's smile and wave.

Instead, her rocking chair transformed into a chair positioned beside a landline. The sounds of the outside were now only her slow heartbeats and the agonizingly slow sounds of the grandfather clock. The sun didn't shine indoors and the air didn't sing.

Time slowed.

Night and day became interchangeable.

The landline rang.

Startled, Abigail Grahams reached forward with shaking hands and held the device to her ear.

 _"Abigail Grahams?"_

"Yes?"

 _"Your daughter is dead."_

Abigail Grahams dropped the landline and a scream dispelled from her throat, forcing her eyes open.

She'd fallen asleep. It was a nightmare.

The landline rang.

Making sure she was in an awakened state, Abigail, again, reached forward with shaking hands and held the device to her ear.

"Julianna?"

 _"Mrs. Grahams, it's me. I'm feeling a lot better and the doctors said I can go home next week. I've missed you so much."_

"Me too, sweet girl, me too. I'm a be waitin' for you to get home safely, you hear? No more givin' this old woman heart attacks."

 _"Don't cry Grams. I'm okay. I'm sorry for scaring you and not calling earlier. After the docs found out I made a call without permission when I was supposed to be sleeping, they took the phone out of the room. But Sam's here and he let me borrow his phone."_

"Don't you worry about that sweet girl. You rest and focus on being good as new, you hear? And tell that Sammy boy that he better take good care of my girl."

A laugh resounded on the other end of the line as a male voice called out _"Yes Ma'am!"_ , before Julianna returned to the phone. _"It's okay Grams, I'm all better now. Just a little sore but nothing I can't handle. Like I said, I'll be home next week so you can see for yourself."_

"I'll hold you ta that, girl."

 _"You bet!"_ Abigail could feel the girl's smile through the phone line.

"Good. I'll be waitin' with a cup of cocoa to warm your bones."

 _"With marshmallows?"_

"I swear girl, you eat more sugar than my dead granddaddy." A pause. "But 'course I'll add them marshmallows."

 _"Thank you, Grams. I'll be home soon."_

"I'll be prayin' for you my girl."

With that, the line was silenced and prayers of relief and gratitude filled that deserted home.

* * *

Ironically, it was rainy and cloudy the day the light returned to Abigail's battered heart. The sun was a coward, hiding behind the dark entities of water. Puddles littered the street, like blotches of smudged paint on an already gloomy canvas.

But Abigail Grahams had spring in her heart and soul as she watched three young men caring for the girl in the wheelchair. The blond man she knew to be Samuel was carrying duffel bags and other stuff that didn't matter to Abigail. A dark haired man with a flair of Italian ancestry, whom she now knew to be Michelangelo, was pushing the wheelchair, while a man that reminded her of her Charles, but she knew was Lewis, was protecting her sweet girl from the heartless rain with a large umbrella.

It was a sight of friendship and love, care and concern, and family. It warmed Abigail's heart even more when she noticed Julianna was asleep, her face relaxed and her expression trusting even in her sleep.

Abigail watched from a far, resisting the urge to call out in fear of awakening the sleeping angel.

So she simply watched, making sure the men took good care of her girl, smiling every time Michelangelo fixed her sleeping head or Lewis moved the umbrella in different angles to protect her from the rain or Samuel eyed her with the will to protect her from anything, rain or sun.

But soon, the group disappeared inside and, reluctantly, Abigail disappeared into her own home as well. After all, the storm was raging and unforgiving to anything in its path. It reminded Abigail of a swarm of locusts.

In the morning, the sun had reclaimed its reign atop the world, and the rain had returned to the clouds. It was a beautiful morning, only made better by Julianna's smile as she made her way slowly to Abigail's porch, leaning heavily on the handsome young man beside her.

Finally, after weeks of worrying and pain, the two were reunited in a fierce embrace, tears staining both their shirts. Abigail felt whole again, as she hugged her girl to her, inhaling her familiar scent and gently stroking her silky brown locks. Her daughter was home.

Reluctantly, Abigail relinquished her hold on Julianna, sensing her girl was in pain. Sure enough, a grimace marred Julianna's features, quickly transforming into a soft smile when she caught the old woman's concerned look.

"I'm okay, Grams. Just sore."

Abigail huffed, shooting Julianna the evil eye.

Even the blond, Abigail noticed, frowned, placing a hand on her girl's back and whispering something softly in her ear, to which Julianna shook her head no.

Despite Julianna's claims, Abigail knew she was in pain from her body language, so she ushered them both inside and placed cocoas in their hands.

Abigail sat on the small couch across from them, eyeing the young man. "Julianna, ain't you gonna tell me who your friend is?"

Although Abigail Grahams knew who Samuel Braddock was extensively, having listened to Julianna speak of him on several occasions, she had never personally met the young man.

Julianna's cheeks tinted slightly as she realized she had somehow found her way to the man's side, leaning into him as his arm wrapped securely around her waist. Abigail frowned, also coming to the same conclusion. Although, from observation, Abigail knew they were involved, seeing it blatantly before her was a whole nother matter that sparked in her a need to protect her girl from boys. The idea that, knowing the morale of the younger generation, he was taking Julianna's innocence, only served to add heat to the fire.

Julianna cleared her throat, coughing slightly - whether due to her injuries or the sudden tension, Abigail didn't know. "Um, Grams, this is Sam. He's my partner that I told you about."

The young man produced a charming smile with a slight bow to his head in acknowledgement. "Honor to finally meet you Ma'm."

Abigail eyed the young man carefully, gauging him closely. Her earlier fire began to cool as flashes of her Julianna's happiness, happiness caused by this young man, invaded her brain. She returned his smile with an approving one of her own. " _Partner_ , eh?"

Samuel's eyes widened and he coughed awkwardly, catching the implication. Julianna too, shifted under his stubborn hold.

To the young couple's surprise, Abigail laughed. "Ease up girl, I've gone and known for awhile. You two ain't as sneaky as you think."

Samuel laughed, soon joined by Julianna.

"I'm sorry I wouldn't tell you Grams, but this has to stay a secret, okay?"

Abigail snorted. "And who am I gonna tell girl?"

Samuel snickered. "It's okay, Ma'm. She's just a bit paranoid."

"Am not!" Jules stated defensively, a smile gracing her lips that gave it all away. Abigail could see her daughter's happiness at the idea of her approving, even liking, the young man she had chosen as her partner. It made Abigail smile.

"Well, young man, ima have ta agree. But you better drop the Ma'm business or ima not agree with nothing ya say, understand?"

Samuel shifted his arms, making sure her girl was comfortable, before looking back to Abigail. "Sorry, Ma- err, Sorry. Habits are hard to break." He smiled sheepishly, tugging with his free hand at a chain around his neck.

Abigail raised an eyebrow, speaking her mind immediately. "What's that necklace you got there boy?"

Julianna laughed, reaching up slowly to tug a pair of dog tags hanging off a chain from their hiding spot. "It's not a necklace Grams, they're dog tags." Her eyes softened, conveying to Abigail sympathy. "He served in the military, too."

Abigail nodded slowly, a surge of pride for this young man surfacing along with the memories that accompanied this revelation - she remembers the day her sons came home during a break, proudly showing their momma their dog tags. She had wondered what the purpose of the tags were until the day they told her it was how they identified her boys.

Swallowing past the lump in her throat, Abigail nodded. "Thank you young man, for your service n selflessness. I'm sure your momma and daddy proud, cause I am."

A flash of something unidentifiable crossed the young man's features, but he smiled softly nonetheless. "Thank you-"

"Grams." Abigail interjected, noticing Julianna's wide smile.

"Thank you Grams." Samuel smiled and kissed Julianna's hair. "And thank you for your approval. It means alot to me."

"You just don't break my girl's heart or hurt her. Or this old witch will haunt you till the day you die, do I make myself clear?" Abigail meant each and every word. Julianna was all she had left, all that gave her life meaning and happiness and she wouldn't bear to see her girl brokenhearted.

Samuel didn't even flinch, only smiled knowingly. "I would rather die than hurt her Grams." His honestly was palpable, an entity of its own along with the love that he proclaimed with every word. "That's a promise."

Abigail smiled genuinely at the young man, but her smile faltered at her daughter's expression. It was one of surprise and pain, almost like regretting something that hadn't happened. "Julianna dear, have you swallowed a lemon?"

Julianna's eyes focused on her face, a different kind of surprise shining in them. "Oh no, Grams. I'm just a bit sore. Sam, can we head back?" She looked back to Abigail. "Sorry Grams. I promise I'll be back tomorrow."

Abigail nodded, not believing that everything was okay for one second. There was definitely something going on in Julianna's mind that would bring about alot of pain. And Abigail wasn't talking physical pain, but the kind that's felt but never seen.

"Alright, dear, you go get some rest you hear?"

Julianna smiled, hobbling over to wrap her arms around the old woman. "I love you Grams."

"I love ya too girl." Abigail responded, watching as Samuel helped her out and away from her home.

Abigail knew that day that her daughter would physically be okay, she would heal and recover. But there was a hurt in her heart, mother's intuition maybe, that warned her there would be more hurt in store for her girl.

 **A/N: And that's part 1. Abigail Grahams literally took a life of her own, refusing to stop being written, and she reminded me so much of my own grandmother that I thought it would do Jules some good to have a strong mother figure that has experienced her fair share of hurts and pain in her life.**

 **Since this is supposed to be only from Abigail's POV, if you have questions about scenes or actions from any other characters, please ask. Do you want to see continuation? Did you understand what seasons I covered - what episodes? What future scenes would you like to see?**

 **Side note - the first parts take place before Flashpoint even starts, the scenes where Jules first moves in, takes her first Scorpio shot, etc.**


End file.
